Whistles the Wind
by a.pens.name
Summary: Risks are part of being a spy. Danger is always present when the safety of a country is involved. But how far will an agency deliberately put its agents in harm's way to stay one step ahead? For 'The Disk', anything is possible...Season 4 SV, Pos. Others
1. Prologue

**A/N**: This is my first ever Alias fic, alright, so cut me some slack if I, as I undoubtedly will, screw up. Much thanks and, in case you didn't know, I own nothing, not even the title, that's a Flogging Molly song. -Sniff- Reviews are loved much, thanks!

* * *

The Disk. A small, insignificant floppy that held more value in just one square centimeter than the entire treasury of most first world countries. People would die for it, murder for it, even betray their best friend for merely the location of it. Only a select handful of people had ever known what was on it, and they had all been killed by now, but everyone knew it was important, everyone knew it was something they desperately wanted. Like the rubix cube of the computer crazed twenty first century, the disk was a puzzle that would lead the person to crack its code to a solution worth more money than a man could ever begin to imagine making in his lifetime. But with that knowledge came a price…

* * *

"Il conto, per favore."

Paolo, the young hotel attendant behind the desk snapped to attention at the voice of the woman in front of him. A Miss Catrina Silvia, American heiress to some fortune or another and enjoying the wonderful June weather like many of the tourists in Rome.

"Salve, Signora Silvia!" He greeted in the warmest tone he could muster. To be a part of _this_ five star hotel, Paolo had been taught, each customer was to be treated as royalty. This was rarely difficult, as most of the customers _were_ royalty, or as important as such. Besides, he noticed as he was printing out her bill that the young woman seemed hurry. Best to get her moving on her way as quickly as possible in a good mood.

"Parla inglese?" She asked politely as she leaned across the counter and twirled one of her short, curling locks of fair hair around her finger.

"Of course, madam." The man answered with a smile.

"Oh, thank god! Do you think you could help me?" Catrina inquired curiously as she passed over her credit card to pay, leaning further into the desk and whispering, "Do you see that man back there?"

Paolo leaned over and looked above her right shoulder at a husky man in a Hawaiian t-shirt and shorts who had just turned the corner into the lounge and seemed to be looking around for something and frowning.

"Yes, Ms. Silvia. Is he causing you problems?"

Catrina giggled, "Well, last night I went to the bar to unwind from shopping _all_ afternoon, it kills your feet, you know?"

Paolo nodded politely as he handed her card back to her.

"Anyway, well," She giggled again and twirled her hair another time with her perfectly manicured finger, "Let's just say that I let myself get a little _too_ friendly. Do you think you could, you know, let me out through the alleyway so I could meet my driver?"

Paolo blinked at the odd request as she turned her head to glance at the man and then back at him, "Miss Silvia, if he is causing you problems we can have him escorted from the building. There is no need-"

"No, no, that won't work. The paparazzi, you know, they're everywhere, they'd eat this up like a pack of sharks." She insisted glancing over her shoulder again as the man began to make his way over to the reception desk, "_Please,_ quickly."

Paolo looked at the man and nodded, abashed at the thought of paparazzi thronging outside the hotel. He'd lose his job for sure.

"Of course, please follow me." He gestured to two of the security guards standing feet away from the desk, "Please make sure that man doesn't follow Miss Silvia on her way out."

Turning to the hallway that led out to the back entrance, he led the woman until he hit the door and then held it open to the sunny alleyway outside.

"Here you are, Miss Silvia, thank you for staying at the Piacere Suite, we hope you will join us again in the future. Shall I wait for your ride to arrive?"

"No, thank you, I'll be fine."

With a final nod goodbye, Paolo turned and went back in, closing the door behind him. He began to walk back down the hall, but paused only a couple of steps away from the door, listening. He could have sworn he heard the whipping sound of… a helicopter.

Frowning, he paused and then turned around, opening the door again. Miss Silvia was gone and there was no sign that she, or a helicopter, had ever been there. Shaking his head curiously, he shrugged and went back in to serve the other waiting customers.

From the helicopter now out of sight of the hotel, Sydney Bristow breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the her seat, letting her eyes close and her body relax.

"Phoenix?" A voice buzzed in her ear.

"Mission successful." She answered without even bothering to open her eyes, "The names are CIA property now."

"Good work. We'll be waiting back in LA for a debrief."

"Sounds good." Sydney finished and pulled the ear piece out and set it on the seat next to her. Hopefully the debrief would be short and sweet and she could go home and finally get some sleep. That was the way it was when you were a spy for the CIA, and Sydney Bristow was one of the best. Moving so that she was sitting across both the seats, she closed her eyes and prepared for, if not sleep, than at least a good break as the helicopter flew back towards Headquarters.

Had she known then that for the next week sleep would be a luxury, she would have tried harder to get some on the plane, but really, no one could have predicted what would happen back at headquarters, not even a trained agent like Sydney.


	2. The Leak

A/N: More setting up the plot. This should be the last-ish chapter of that and then right into some action. Whoop! Thanks to lec, ArodLoverus2001, fieryred20, and Fair Cate, you guys rock!

Vivian hated walking outside at night. It wasn't that it was particularly dangerous in the little suburb where she was, lined with little house and street lamps, but she despised it just the same. Her eyes wandered up to the street signs as she passed them and finally stopped below one on a dark, deserted street corner.

_26th and Waltmin, this is it._

She stopped, shoving her hands down deeper into the pockets of her zip-up sweatshirt and waiting. Any minute now…

A hand gripped her shoulder and she could feel the barrel of a gun in her back as she gritted her teeth and muttered, "You're late."

"I'm never late. Do you have the CD?" The man's grip didn't even loosen as he spoke form behind her.

"No. Someone got to it before me. Government issue, I'd bet, from her style. Didn't kill a single guard on the way in or out."

"Then maybe I should have hired her instead of you. How do you expect to fix this?" He hissed into her ear, still shadowed by night, "It's both of us that'll get it if you can't do your job."

"You think I don't know that? I have someone on it right now, chatting with an old friend of yours, a Mr. Miguel." She hinted and smirked, knowing she was prodding at a sore spot.

"What makes you think he'll tell you anything?"

"He will. We'll have answers before dawn today."

The hand let go and the gun moved back, "You'd better hope we do."

A few seconds later, the street corner was empty again.

-------------

"An hour. I've already waited _an hour_. It's late, I'm tired, I want to go home. What I don't want to do is wait _another_ hour around here."

Eric shook his head and patted Sydney on the shoulder sympathetically with one hand as he slid a tall cup of coffee towards her with the other, "Yeah, I know, it sucks. Just sit tight and wait, everything will get sorted out soon enough and they can start the debrief."

Rubbing her forehead, she pushed her swivel chair so she could lean on the desk and see the time on the computer screen. 1:30 AM. At this rate, she wouldn't even get to go back to her apartment before she had to report for work that morning. It wasn't fair to take it out on Weiss, though, it wasn't any more his fault than it was hers.

"Thanks for the coffee." She thanked him, smiling apologetically.

"Hey, no problem. Someone's got to watch our for you while your sister's gone." He said and patted her on the shoulder as he rolled his eyes, "Poor Nadia, I can't even begin to think about how broken up she must be, vacationing two weeks in Greece. Watching the sunset on the beach, sleeping in until noon, lounging in the sun by temple ruins, must be tough."

Sydney laughed and sipped her coffee, "Yeah, only a week and a half until she gets back." She lowered her voice, "It might sound stupid, but I can't wait. The house is so quiet with just me right now, it's awkward."

"Well, you always have friends you could invite over." He suggested, hinting.

"But Vaughn doesn't get back until tomorrow, either." Sydney answered teasingly and beamed as Eric held his chin up with indignation.

"Oh, I see how it's going to be. Here I am, suggesting a nice night for my friend, a little company, some Chinese take out, a campy horror film even, and all she does is-"

Sydney stopped laughing as soon as she saw the door open out of the corner of her eye and sat straight up in her chair. Eric glanced over his shoulder and then coughed as he moved further up in the seat and straightened his tie. Two men came out of the open room, both looking discontent and troubled as they finished a hushed conversation and moved towards Sydney and Eric.

"Good morning." Greeted the shorter man, clasping his hands in front of him, "I expect you two are waiting for a debrief over the mission?"

Sydney glanced up at Arvin Sloane and got a firmer grip on her coffee. _Stop being ridiculous_, she repeated to herself, _It's late, you're tired, just calm down._ As she glanced up to answer, she couldn't help but notice Jack Bristow shifting next to him once, before standing stiff and straight again.

"Yes, are we starting soon?" Sydney asked, forcing down a demand to know why she'd been waiting so long. Something about the way Jack was watching her right now was beginning to make her nervous.

"I'm afraid not. An emergency has arisen that we must discuss." He gestured the two of them into the conference room, "Come with me, both of you."

Sydney stood and quietly followed Sloane, glancing back once at Eric to see if he understood what was going on any better than she did but the expression on his face told her he didn't. Jack paused for a moment and followed them, shutting the door securely behind them as Sydney and Eric took the two seats across form each other closest to the screen on the wall.

"We got word from Italy about twenty minutes before your jet touched down, Sydney." Arvin began as he clicked the screen on with a remote in his hand, "There was a problem."

"I got the CD." She said, glancing at the picture on the screen for only a moment before turning her attention back on Arvin, "I don't see what the problem could be. It was practically in and out."

"Unfortunately, that's not true." Nodding to the screen he moved to the front of the table, "Androv Miguel, a CIA Sleeper Agent residing in Italy was found dead. We have every reason to believe you had contact with him before you left, as he was currently at the same hotel, correct?"

Sydney looked up at the picture again. It did look familiar, a lot like someone she'd seen right before she left.

"The receptionist?" She questioned, guessing, "He was a sleeper?"

Arvin nodded, "_Was_ being the operative word. There is now evidence pointing to an information leak in the time before his death, presumably involving you or the current mission. Until we receive further notice as to the state and amount of this leak, Jack and I decided it was in your best interest to stay at APO. I've sent a team to check your house, but until we know how much Miguel revealed and to who, I do not want you leaving the premises."

Sydney glanced back to Eric who was frowning as he digested information as he asked, "Wait, so Miguel was murdered, but how do we know he knew anything about Sydney to tell them?"

"At the moment, we don't. Therefore, the necessary precautions are being taken to insure the safety of Miss Bristow." He clicked the power off on the projector, "We are adjourned until we know more. Remember, Sydney, do not leave the building under any circumstance. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Very good. An extra office has been outfitted in case you are required to stay the whole night. Dismissed."

--------

Eric looked across the room at Sydney with her knees pulled up and her chin resting on them on the cot. Since they'd left the meeting, she had stayed mostly optimistic and calm, but Eric had a good idea as to what she was thinking about, so he'd stayed. He knew that, God forbid, he ever had to stay the whole night at the office with a possible threat on _his_ life, he would want company too.

"Thanks for staying." She said gratefully, as if reading his mind, "I like the company."

"No problem, Syd."

"I don't even know what I'm so worried about. It's not like this kind of stuff hasn't ever happened before and it's all gotten sorted out then, so why shouldn't it now?"

"Of course, it'll be fine, just close your eyes and sleep a little."

A slow smile spread across her face, "You're too nice, you know that?"

"Yeah." He grinned, happy to see her mood lightening as they both sat quietly, until another voice broke the silence.

"Hey, what's this? I leave for three days and I come back to my best friend cheating with my girl, after everything I've done for him. That's gratitude for you." Vaughn was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.

"Vaughn, you're back early!" Sydney exclaimed, jumping off the cot and crossing the room to his open arms, "What happened to coming back tomorrow afternoon?"

"APO paged me and told me what happened, with Agent Miguel and everything," He noticed her eyes darkened as he mentioned it and went on as she loosened her grip around his shoulders, "And then I got on the next flight here to see how you were doing. Well, and partially because APO said they'd fire my ass if I wasn't here today, but that's only a small part." He smiled and then turned to Eric, "But it looks like someone's been doing my job."

"She's all yours, buddy." He insisted as he picked his coat up off the chair he'd been sitting in, "It's only what, three, four in the morning? If I leave now I can get a good three hours before I have to come back in." Heading for the door, he patted Sydney's shoulder, "Take care of yourself and," He nodded to Vaughn, "Good to have you back. See you tomorrow."

Michael watched as he headed out the door and around the corner and then looked back down at Sydney, "You're pretty lucky. Eric doesn't give up his beauty sleep for just anyone, you know."

Wrinkling her nose and looking up at him, she smiled, "I missed you. How was the trip?"

"I missed you too, and _long_." He answered, guiding her over to the cot and pulled up a chair to sit down across from her, "How was everything back here? Well, until today, obviously."

"Normal." Sydney said and paused, as if she wanted to say more but decided against it.

Michael set his hand on her knee and watched her, "What?"

Hesitating a moment, she pulled back and turned around to face the door, "This whole…mess. It's my fault, I wasn't on top of my game, I let myself get compromised too easily. I should have been-"

"'Should have been' nothing. You went out there and did your job and there is no way what happened has anything to do with the way you reacted in the field. For all anyone knows it doesn't involve you at all." He insisted and watched as she nodded a half-hearted agreement, "Are you sure that's all that's bothering you, Sydney?"

"Yeah." She replied and looked back over at him and sliding her hand into his, "It's just a bad week."

Michael stroked her hand with his thumb gently, but before he could ask her why, a noise caught their attention.

Footsteps echoed from down the hall as Jack rounded the corner and walked into the door frame, standing as straight and proper as always, even at three-thirty in the morning.

"Our sources in Rome have given us every reason to believe your cover is in the clear, Sydney." He informed them, "You're free to head home for the night and I recommend both of you get some sleep. Sloane wants everyone here at eleven tomorrow morning."

Michael nodded and Sydney smiled, obviously relieved as Jack went on, "Goodnight Sydney, Michael." He nodded to both of them and left the room, leaving them alone again.

Standing and stretching, Sydney yawned, "Finally, I can't wait to get home and crash. I can almost hear my bed calling now."

Michael kissed Sydney lightly on the cheek in goodbye, "I'll see you tomorrow morning if you're sure you don't need anything."

"I'm fine, Vaughn, don't worry." She assured him and returned his kiss, grabbing her coat and turning back to him as she started to leave, "Are you coming?"

"No, I have to grab a few things before I go."

"Okay, goodnight." She smiled before leaving.

"'night."

Michael watched her leave and frowned, shaking his head. Something seemed up with her, but he couldn't quite see what it was.

_Maybe I'm just being paranoid_. He thought as he picked up a few things and left the office, switching off the light and trying to rationalize his apprehension.


	3. Private Investigation

A/N: Thanks to charlotte, lec, pigeonofdoom, Jackie, TheUptownGirl, arco iris, tine, LaFilmeMichelle, Fair Cate, and Aliasa. I'm seriously running out of words to describe such reviewing awesomeness. And as for calling him Michael, I will do that from time to time because that is, after all, his name. But it felt weird writing it too, hehe. Oh, and if the title changes it's because the song title I used as the story title really doesn't fit any more with my recent plot change epiphany, so sorry if that's confusing. And the whole "this will be the last chapter of description" thing from before, well, again, bear with me.

DATABASE SEARCH: SYDNEY BRISTOW

Michael's hand hovered over the mouse, finger resting across the clicker. All he had to do was push his finger down ever so slightly and the computer would, in a manner of seconds, pull up her file and maybe he could put himself at ease. Now all he needed to do was convince himself that there was nothing wrong with what he was about to do. That was the part that was taking the longest.

"Hey." Eric said from behind him and Michael clicked off the screen quickly.

"Um, hey." Michael replied casually, turning around in his chair, hoping that Eric hadn't seen what he'd been up to.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing or are we going to sit here in uncomfortable silence until one of us cracks?"

Michael frowned, knowing he'd have to spill eventually, "While I was gone, did Sydney seem a little…well, funny, I guess?"

"Funny like 'ha ha' or funny like you're being right now?" He asked, pulling up a nearby chair.

"Funny like out of the ordinary, odd. Just not…Sydney-like."

Eric shook his head, "I don't know, it's hard to tell with her sometimes. Why, what's wrong? You look worried about something."

Now it was Michael's turn to shake his head, "Probably not, but-" He shrugged, "I think I'm just being paranoid."

"No problem, paranoia comes with the job." Eric said, patting Michael on the shoulder, "Come on, we've got to get to the meeting."

He got up and headed towards the office, leaving Michael behind looking at the blank screen on the computer for a moment before he got up and followed him in.

------

There was light chatting in the room as everyone settled in and waited for Arvin and Jack to come. Michael found Sydney and took the chair next to her as she tapped her pen on the desk.

"Sleep well?" He greeted and, when no response came, cleared his throat.

Sydney started in surprise, "Hmm, sorry, what was that?"

"I was asking you if you slept well, but I think I know the answer now." He answered with an amused smile.

Sydney grimaced and then glanced around, the corners of her lips barely turning upward as she whispered over, "Is it that obvious?"

"No, don't worry. I'll vouch for you if you can't stay awake." He offered, grinning

"Ha ha, very funny." She muttered and rubbed the corners of her eyes with her fingers, "I think I'm going to need an IV of coffee if they expect me to stay awake all day."

"Maybe Marshall will whip one up for you if you ask nicely." He lightheartedly suggested and they both sat quietly for a moment, listening to the buzz of other voices before Michael decided to venture, "Hey, Sydney, is there anything-"

At that moment Arvin and Jack came in followed by another man, cutting off the chatter. Michael caught a curious glance from Sydney out of the corner of his eye and waved it off, mouthing something he hoped looked like never mind.

The screen at the front of the room clicked on, showing a middle aged man with prematurely graying hair. As Michael read the brief stats on the side, he could see why. For someone who had a criminal record as long as he did, it was a miracle he looked as healthy as he did.

"Mr. Emil Portner." Arvin explained as he stepped to the front of the room and paused momentarily before continuing, "Former freelance smuggler turned hit man, he has been a thorn in the side of the CIA for too many years now. Our sources have also given us reason to believe that he may actively be opening business connections again for unknown purposes. Thanks to the intel gathered off the CD last night, however, we believe we may have found a way to locate him before he becomes an even greater hazard to the country.

"According to the information we extracted, one of Portner's close contacts can be found here: The Art Institute of Chicago." The screen flashed and a picture of an almost temple like museum came up with more statistics as Arvin continued, "Mr. Liam Quinlin has been teaching at the art school there for roughly four years and co-managing for two now and frequents the museum itself often after class hours. We know he was one associated with Portner before being captured and pardoned by the government but we suspect he may be concealing something for his partner again."

Arvin turned to face them all, "We need to interrogate Quinlin who, since his release and duty fulfilled, has been very unhelpful in the locating of other criminals. Unfortunately, if we bring him in to headquarters, Portner may suspect we are digging for information on him. Sydney, you and Vaughn will be working undercover ops, first, for Sydney to befriend Quinlin, and then for both of you to access his underground facility where he may have something of Portner's. Eric and Dixon, you will be on op-tech with Agent Stroud and Marshall, who will both be stationed here." He said, nodding to the man who had followed them in and was now sitting in the corner, who nodded back, "He is from the Directorate of Intelligence and the mission head. Any questions during the mission should be sent directly to him."

"The plane leaves in an hour. Marshall will set you up with the necessary equipment. Agent Stroud has a few words to say before we dismiss." Arvin finished and then sat down as the man stood up.

Agent Stroud was tall with what would be called chiseled facial features and as soon as he spoke, Michael glanced at Sydney who raised her eyebrows curiously. It was clear he was quite used to being respected and expected no less there.

"As Arvin has made clear, it is of up most importance the CIA finds whatever object or information Quinlin may be concealing. This should be a two day, in and out mission. Any problems and the CIA has promised they will become more… involved. At this point, that is something we would all wish to avoid."

Arvin nodded and stood again, passing out the mission binders, "Dismissed. Sydney, please stay for just a moment."

Sydney frowned, questioningly, but stayed seated, turning to Michael and nudged her briefcase with her foot lightly, "Vaughn, would you mind dropping this off on my desk?" Glancing over at Sloane and Agent Stroud she grimaced, "I don't think I'm going to have time to before we have to go. Oh, and watch out for the one latch, it pops sometimes."

"No problem." Picking up the bag, he squeezed her hand with his free one and left the room.

------

The room was humming with activity as Michael turned the corner to the office. Nodding to other agents as he passed, he didn't notice as the briefcase bumped up against her desk. With a click, the lid popped open, sending a flurry of manila folders, a binder, and various other things at the floor by her chair.

"Good job." Eric complimented with an amused smirk, "That definitely deserves a nine point five, if not a ten even."

Michael swore and stooped down, picking up the folders and stacking them back in a neat order, "Ha ha."

Eric smiled and began to help and quickly, he moved on to picking up the loose items when suddenly his hand stopped on something.

"Uh, Michael…"

"Yeah?" He asked, sliding papers back into one of the piled folders. It was amazing how much stuff she'd managed to cram into that little briefcase. No wonder the latch didn't work.

There was a longer pause instead of an answer.

Michael looked up curiously, "What?" He eyes moved down to what Eric was holding in his hand, "What is it?"

"I think I know why Sydney's been so moody lately…"


	4. Ms van Buren

A/N: Thanks to freitazal, starshollow108, Grouchy, mysteriouscharm, pigeonofdoom, ArodLoverus2001, and Katie. You guys are, again, awesome.

Sydney watched as the room began to clear out until the only people left were her father, Sloane, Stroud, and herself. Hoping that they had nothing important to say, she folded her hands on the table and waited. Vaughn had wanted to talk to her too, she'd have to try to fit that in before they left if she could. He'd been acting so strange lately, she didn't want to blow a chance to figure out why.

"So?" She interrupted as politely as possible which, given her present state of mind and lack of sleep, was not very.

To her surprise, it was Agent Stroud who answered her, "According to your personal files, you have been previously acquainted with a Mr. Sark, correct?"

Sydney stiffened in her chair, "Yes. Why?"

Jack spoke this time, "With our other intelligence we gathered that Sark and a new terrorist group of unknown alliance are after whatever Quinlin has as well." He hesitated, "We have reason to believe they might be connected to the murder of Androv Miguel."

"You think _he_ gave them the information?" Sydney questioned, glancing from one face to the other. None of them had answers. Keeping down her frustration she turned to the most likely person to give her answers, Stroud, and waited.

"That is a possibility, yes. Which is why we need you to keep an eye out."

"For Sark? That's-" She stopped on the word 'impossible'. How many times had she said _that_ before?

_Too many times_, she reminded herself. Where Sark was concerned, anything was possible and, more likely, probable. Especially when a weapon was concerned.

"Why tell just me? Vaughn should know, too, he is my partner."

_Among other reasons, _she thought, _none of which are any of my business to talk about. _

"We need you to keep an eye on Sark _and_ Agent Vaughn." Stroud went on patiently and continued before Sydney could interrupt him again, "The last thing the CIA wants is a shoot out at the museum. It is an in and out mission; there should be no sign you were ever there. There are concerns that Agent Vaughn may act irrationally towards Sark-"

"_Irrationally?_" Sydney almost choked out as she tried to hold back. The last thing she needed was to erupt in front of an agent from the CIA, no matter how stupid and pig-headed he was making himself, "What would you consider 'irrational', Agent Stroud? From our previous dealings with Sark, I imagine a couple of shots would be extremely rational."

Stroud watched her calmly, she had to give him that. As stupid as some of the things he said were, he was handling her own outbursts very well. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down and glanced at Jack and Sloane, wondering how much she was embarrassing herself.

"Unfortunately, Miss Bristow, the agency doesn't take that view. If you run into out of the museum, however…" He smiled slightly, "Accidents happen. Just make sure they don't during the mission."

Maybe she could learn to tolerate Stroud after all.

"Alright."

"Good. Please do not inform Agent Vaughn about anything we just discussed until further notice and, with permission, you're dismissed." He glanced to Sloane who nodded approval. She stood, shook hands with Stroud, and nodded to Sloane and Jack before leaving, trying to control herself before she bolted from the room.

------

"Why wouldn't she tell me about something like this?" Michael turned the empty box around in his hand for the umpteenth time, "I mean, I would tell her, if well, roles were reversed or something."

"Maybe it just came back negative." Eric suggested as he watched Michael spin the pregnancy test box.

"Maybe. But what if it didn't?" Michael asked, more to himself than to Eric as he rubbed his forehead with his free hand, "I mean…wow."

Eric shook his head, "Look, don't worry. Syd would've- speak of the devil."

Michael's head shot up and he shoved the box back into the briefcase on the desk and snapped it closed quickly just as Sydney turned and walked towards them, brightening as she came.

"Plane's leaving in half an hour and they want us on." She paused, her smile fading a notch as she looked them both over inquisitively, "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Michael chimed in after a brief pause, smiling casually, "To the plane, then?"

She looked to Eric who shrugged in response and she slowly smiled mischievously, "Fine, if that's the way you two want to play… I'll just have to figure it out."

"Hopefully we all will." Eric muttered under his breath as they walked out to the parking lot. Michael shot him a look out of the corner of his eye.

"What was that?" Sydney asked.

"Nothing." They both answered in unison this time.

"What did Sloane have to say?" Michael asked curiously, changing the subject.

"Not much." She answered honestly.

Eric rolled his eyes mouthing something only Michael caught. _This is ridiculous._

He couldn't help but agree.

------

"What do you think about this one?" Sydney asked, the stiletto heels on her black sling backs clicking above the low rumble of the jet as she walked down the aisle, making a final adjustment to the black wig bun on her head.

"It _is_ better than the brunette one. The subtle highlights of black, onyx, and hazel are blended together in perfect harmony, dahling." Eric commented in his best blasé accent, barley glancing up from his magazine. Dixon, at least, glanced up and nodded before turning his attention back to the op-tech equipment.

"Oh _thanks_." Sydney groaned and then smiled, "Seriously though, what do you guys think? I mean, this guy will be hard to convince and I don't want to take any chances."

"It looks amazing. You always have the best disguises, don't worry." Michael answered as he came up the isle behind her and ushered her into the seats, taking the one next to her, "It's just a routine mission. He cracks, gives us our intel, and we're on the plane back in two days." He leaned over closer to her ear, "And I've been thinking. When we get back, screw work for a week. I've heard that Santa Barbra is lovely this time of year."

Sydney looked at him curiously, "Really? You mean it?"

"Of course."

Blushing, she looked down and began to pack her purse, "Well, it better be quick then. I need a vacation."

"Don't we all." Eric muttered.

Sydney opened her mouth to inform him that it wasn't that he wasn't liked, but there were certain times when three was most certainly a crowd when the speaker in the jet buzzed in and informed them they were five minutes away from landing.

Michael glanced over at Sydney as she flattened out her black skirt again and squeezed her hand reassuringly, "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, she stiffened until she was sitting straight in her seat and answered in her most cultivated, smooth elocution, smiling slyly, "Yes, of course. You, on the other hand, appear to have forgotten to change."

Eric raised an eyebrow and grinned while Michael kept his features stony and answered with military precision, "I'll get on that right away, Ms. van Buren."

Sydney erupted in a fit of giggles, half choking while trying to stop laughing as Michael grinned, shaking his head. Eric rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, they're ready." He muttered sarcastically to an amused Dixon.

"So it would seem."

-------

"Phoenix and Boy Scout in position and waiting for the target."

"Roger that, Pheonix. Target should be approaching… in roughly a minute, he is rounding the corner now." The voice buzzed with a laugh in Sydney's ear as she pretended to examine a long, modern painting of colored stripes, "Don't worry about getting his attention. The staff higher up has already been informed of the arrival of Ms. van Buren." Sydney adjusted her glasses, hoping the camera inside them was pointing at the proper height. From the reflection on the glass over the painting, she could see Vaughn standing a few feet behind her off to the side, hands clasped in front, sunglasses on, and earpiece ready. He certainly did look the part now, with the black suit and everything.

"Target will be in range in ten seconds…five, four, three, two, go."

Sydney stood up straight, tilting her head to the side slightly and glancing out the corner of her black-rimmed glasses at the man who was coming down the hall. Tall, mid-fifties, and tired, exactly as Sydney had pictured him. Casually, she pulled herself up straighter and put her hands behind her back, looking over the painting with what she hoped appeared to be intense interest.

"Ah, Ms. van Buren, I see you have found our contemporary art. Are you a fan?" Liam Quinlin asked politely as he stopped next to her.

"Not particularly, no. However, I find this piece quite fascinating. The discovery of color that the artist obviously experienced while painting this is amazing, don't you agree?" Sydney recited, remembering what she'd worked on in the plane.

"Indeed." Liam replied, a slow smile spreading over his face, "Few of our average visitors seem to realize that, unfortunately." He paused, looking her over curiously, "In fact, it is one of my personal favorites here."

"Really? It is one of mine too." Taking her eyes of the painting, the corners of her lips turned up slightly, "But truly, Mr. Quinlin, let us cut to the chase, shall we? Art, as I'm sure you are already aware of, is not the only thing we share common tastes in, if rumors are true. Politics happens to be another subject of great interest to me."

"Ah," Liam replied with mild discomfort and coughed, "Yes, _that_."

He coughed again and ushered her down the hall to the next painting before speaking again politely, "As I'm sure you're already aware, the museum is holding it's annual charity gala ball tomorrow. We at the institute would be honored if you would grace us with your presence. It would be a superb opportunity to talk with others who share your views. Should I reserve an invitation?"

Sydney kept the smile on her face, "That would be lovely."

"Ah, delightful." He shook her hand, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. van Buren and I cannot wait to hear from you again tomorrow night."

"The feeling is mutual."

With that, Liam nodded and left and Sydney smiled back at Michael before heading out of the building. She could already smell the beach.


End file.
